


Sometimes a Man just Wants Waffles

by WantonWhale



Series: Petty-Boy Eli [1]
Category: Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: A LOT of people apparently, Anal, Convenient Alien Biology, Crack-adjacent, Dom/sub Undertones, Eli/everyone (mentioned), Established Relationship, Jealous!Thrawn, Jealousy Kink, M/M, Petty!Eli, Possessiveness, Pre-established Boundaries, Rimming, Rough Sex, ficspired, four-fingering, heavy Eli consumption, light alcohol consumption, oral/fingering deluxe combo with extra thighs, who knew that little space-cowboy could take so much?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-08
Updated: 2020-04-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23544622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WantonWhale/pseuds/WantonWhale
Summary: After the fall of the Empire, Thrawn returns to Csilla to be reunited with Eli, only to find 1. he has made a few tactical errors, 2. Eli is very petty, 3. and they are still very,veryinto each other.Excerpt:The idea of Eli being with other men did intrigue Thrawn, as Eli well knew. Chasing (and being chased by) pirates, rebels, and smugglers in life-or-death situations was pretty stellar foreplay.But even better was this game they sometimes played.And after seven years, they played it very, very well.
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto
Series: Petty-Boy Eli [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1694419
Comments: 30
Kudos: 58





	Sometimes a Man just Wants Waffles

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Ship-wrecked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20628497) by [chaos_monkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey). 



> Inspired by the waffles in the frozen food aisle and the works of [Chaos_monkey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaos_monkey/pseuds/chaos_monkey) (Especially [Ship-wrecked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20628497/chapters/48982913) for putting the image of a death trooper/Eli threesome into my head that reappears every time I see waffles, and the [Intimate Liaisons](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1615033%20) series for convenient alien biology!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eli and Thrawn catch up over a glass of ice wine.

After taking one last bracing breath, Thrawn opened the door. He struggled to school his features as Captain Eli Vanto, looking incredibly handsome clad in his black CDF uniform, entered his temporary apartment. “Good evening, Captain Vanto,” he said as he watched Eli step out of his boots.

Eli gave the Chiss a lingering once-over, an appreciative arch to his brows. “Nice robe,” he said. “That come with the apartment?”

“It did,” Thrawn admitted as he stepped aside to allow him entrance, closing and bolting the door behind him.

Eli reached forward, fingering the shining burgundy material of the lapel. “What is that, firemoth silk?”

“I believe so.”

“Fancy.” Eli gave the lapel an affectionate tug before moving to take a seat on one of the plush black couches, letting his head fall back against the cushions with an appreciative groan. Most likely for the warmth, Thrawn thought; Eli never did appreciate being cold and Csilla was very, _very_ cold. 

Thrawn held up the bottle of wine his brother had left with the apartment (after ripping off the note that said ‘do the galaxy a favor and get laid,’ crumpling it up, and throwing it into the fireplace) and asked, “Ice wine?”

Eli gave him a grateful smile and nodded. “Please. I’ve been dealing with this asshole Aristocra who doesn’t seem to think I understand Cheunh and keeps talking to my aide instead of speaking directly to me.”

Thrawn did not look up as he popped the cork and said, “How frustrating; I cannot imagine what that is like.”

“I never should have taught you sarcasm,” Eli said, but he was smiling fondly at his former commander. He watched as Thrawn collected two crystal glasses. “I’ve got a question for you,” he said thoughtfully.

“I am sure you have many questions,” Thrawn said as he poured them each a glass of ice wine, “though I cannot answer all of them.”

And it was true. He had no way of knowing what would happen to the galaxy now that the Empire had fallen, though he had many theories. Thrawn passed Eli his glass and joined him on the couch across from him. As he took a sip of the deep indigo wine, he smiled inwardly. He had, in fact, been greatly looking forward to bouncing ideas about the geopolitical ramifications of the destruction of the Death Star with his—

“Did you send Ronan to the Ascendancy so I’d have somebody to fuck?”

Thrawn choked slightly on his wine, then coughed into the crook of his elbow to clear his airway. He had not thought of it in those terms _precisely,_ but admittedly, Eli was not far off.

Alright, yes.

He had been thinking precisely in those terms.

Eli leaned back in the cushions, taking a deep sip of wine as he stretched an arm behind him on the couch, a mischievous smirk plastered on his face. “Like, were you worried that the human you shipped off on his own would get lonely at the Csilla Zoo without any other humans to play with, so you basically entrapped the first guy-interested-guy you found into having no other choice but join me so I wouldn’t get bored?”

Thrawn took another sip of wine to avoid having to answer the question.

Eli (naturally) saw through the (admittedly) weak tactic immediately and continued, giving no quarter and showing no mercy: “Were you so sure I wouldn’t be able to attract a Chiss that you had to send me back with a pity-fuck-side-piece?” His brown eyes suddenly lit up with understanding and his one-sided smirk spread into a full, mischievous grin. “Or were you afraid I _would_ be able to attract a Chiss?”

Thrawn winced internally, though confident the impact of the accuracy of Eli’s statement did not show on his features.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” Eli asked, tilting his head to the side as he examined Thrawn.

_Damn._

“I did meet your brother a couple times, you know—real charming guy,” Eli said nonchalantly as he traced the rim of his glass with a finger. “A lot like you... maybe a little chattier...” he took another sip of wine and added, “and taller.”

Thrawn narrowed his eyes. “My brother is _not_ taller than me.”

“Oof,” Eli said, wincing. “Too far, huh?”

Thrawn looked down at his drink, watching the indigo liquid slosh precariously along the rim as he swirled it in his hand. “You… did not find him suitable?”

“Your brother?” Eli cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, I found him _plenty_ suitable.”

Thrawn sighed, casting Eli an admonishing look. “I was referring to Ronan, and I think you know that.”

Eli smiled at him with the sort of fond patience someone gives a child when they try to make their own lunch and concoct a candy-gizka-nugget sandwich. “What were you thinking, Thrawn? Ronan? _Seriously_?”

Thrawn let out a short breath. “I was thinking that Ronan had clearly demonstrated an interest in you—“

“ _What?_ ” Eli gasped dramatically, placing the back of his hand over his forehead in a mock swoon. “How can that be? I am but a cape-less deserter!”

“A deserter you may be, but an exceptionally attractive one at that,” Thrawn said, gesturing toward Eli with his wineglass. “His gaze continually diverted toward you during conversations. Oftentimes his eyes would wander to your mouth or pelvic area, and anytime you walked away he always watched your posterior, thereupon his body glow would increase substantially. Even when not speaking to you directly, his body language was very telling. For example, his pelvis tended to point toward you, and his hands—”

“Alright, alright,” Eli cut him off, placing his glass on the table between them and leaning forward to rest his arms on his thighs. “Let’s assume that you’re right, because you usually are about these things. Did _my_ temperature fluctuate around him in a ‘ooh hey look at that guy’ way? Or just a ‘wow I sure would like to punch that guy’ kinda way?”

Thrawn gave a minute shrug. “In your case, I don’t think that distinction is quite as clear as you might like to think.”

Eli’s mouth fell open for a moment, but he recovered quickly. “And what did _my_ body language suggest? Who was _my_ pelvis pointing toward exactly? Or were you too focused on Ronan’s crotch to keep track of what _mine_ was doing?”

Thrawn _had_ been paying attention to Eli’s body language, in fact, and had been both pleased and pained to see that his eyes, the tilt of his shoulders, and even the slight movements of his hands always pointed toward Thrawn himself… just as they had before their separation of necessity.

“Admittedly,” Thrawn began, “I did not notice any marked shifts in your body language that might indicate a high degree of attraction to the man, but Ronan has a symmetry of form that I thought you might find… _suitable_.”

Eli rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks, sweetheart. I’m sure if he ever managed to shut up about how much he wants Krennic to cum on his face long enough for me to get my dick out he’d be real _suitable_.”

Thrawn was not sure why he felt the need to defend his choice, but he did. “An unfortunate propensity for blind loyalty aside, Ronan seemed reasonably intelligent,” Thrawn insisted. “Intelligence is _always_ attractive.”

Eli shot him a dirty look. “Well, Thrawn, maybe _you_ should’ve fucked him.” He snorted and added, “while you had the chance.” Thrawn arched an eyebrow at that and Eli explained, “Oh yeah, he lasted like two months before they put him in front of a firing squad for trying to send Navigator secrets back to his beloved Director Krennic.”

Thrawn hadn’t looked so scandalized since Captain Rossi explained that the Empire was more concerned with recovering a few canisters of tibanna gas than saving a dozen lives.

Eli held up his hands and backpedaled hurriedly, “Don’t worry, he’s fine— _it was a joke_. Ronan is _completely_ safe… after a fashion,” he added with a murmur, looking away as he took another sip of wine, futilely attempting to hide his grimace from Thrawn’s observant eyes.

Thrawn sat quietly for several long moments as he absorbed this information. He licked his lips to distract from the brief sad smile that inevitably flashed whenever he remembered _that particular_ man. “I’ve also noted your attraction to men with similar Core-accents in the past.” 

“No,” Eli corrected with a raised finger. “ _I_ was not attracted to Nightswan: _Horatio Figg_ was attracted to Nightswan, and only because _you_ threw me in there completely unprepared and I had no idea what else to do other than use my Wild Space wiles to distract him.”

“You mean _Horatio Figg_ had no choice but to use _Horatio Figg’s_ Wild Space wiles,” Thrawn corrected, a smile now visibly twitching on his lips and Eli shot him a withering look.

Thrawn did not have the heart to tell Eli that he was not nearly as talented an actor as he fancied himself to be and let slide the (clearly false) claim that he was only _pretending_ to be attracted to Nightswan. “Shared adversity is a common catalyst for romance, and you and Ronan do have a fair amount in common,” he insisted. “I thought perhaps your shared experience on Aloxor might forge some commonality that could serve as the basis for… _companionship._ ” 

Eli stared at Thrawn for several long moments. Then, the laughter came as sudden and fierce as a Csilla avalanche. Thrawn watched with an arched eyebrow as Eli slapped the cushion beside him, and generally falling into hysterics, laughing so hard he was actually crying.

The human composed himself long enough to choke out, “The funniest part is that you thought of _all_ the people you sent with me to Aloxor, _Assistant Director Ronan_ would be the one I’d be most likely to _bone_ ,” before dissolving into riotous laughter once more.

Thrawn blinked at him. “I do not understand.”

Eli sobered at that. “What, _seriously_?”

“Seriously.”

Eli turned his head slightly, the trace of laughter still dancing in his eyes. “Have you… never seen the death troopers without their helmets on?”

Thrawn shook his head and Eli made a silent “ah” of understanding. “That explains a lot,” he said. 

“What difference should that make?” Thrawn asked, placing his wine on the table beside Eli’s long-abandoned glass. 

Eli leaned back against the couch, spreading his arms behind him with a pleased look on his face. He gave a small shrug and said absently, “I’m just saying that if you were worried about me getting _hungry_ , you should’ve sent me back to Csilla with some _waffles_.” 

Thrawn’s mouth parted ever-so-slightly and Eli continued, his legs spreading apart as he relaxed further into the cushions. “And a little Pik wouldn’t have hurt either… or…” He raised his brows suggestively. “Maybe it _would_ have.”

Thrawn narrowed his red eyes as he watched Eli breathe out an impressed sort of laugh and add, “Not that there’s anything little about _either_ of them. I mean, not only do they both _look_ like they could be on an Imperial recruitment poster, but they’re also strong enough to rip out a man’s femur and beat him to death with it. Now _that's hot._ ”

Thrawn rose from the couch and walked around the table toward Eli as he continued, “And those _eyes._ ” Eli shivered, ignoring Thrawn who was now looming over him, casting his tan face in shadow. “Talk about _intense._ Like they were thinking of two ways to kill me and three ways to _fuck_ me every time they looked at me— _oof_!” he yelped as he was lifted bodily from the couch.

Eli wrapped his legs around Thrawn’s waist as he was carried across the room and _slammed_ against the wall, causing the paintings to rattle in their frames. It was not hard enough to knock the wind out of his lungs, but just hard enough to hurt.

Exactly how Eli liked it. 

Thrawn pressed Eli into the wall firmly enough to support his weight and slid his hands under the man’s thighs, giving them a hard squeeze as he growled, “Does the thought of such violent strength intrigue you, Captain Vanto?” He rolled his hips forward, pleased to find Eli’s body responding much the same as his own to the proceedings. 

“Does the idea of me fucking somebody else intrigue _you_?” Eli retorted, bucking his hips against Thrawn’s. “ _Sir?_ ” He leaned forward and nipped Thrawn’s earlobe, his breath hot against cool blue skin as he whispered, “Does the thought of me being completely and thoroughly _fucked_ by two medically-enhanced death troopers do anything for you?”

The idea of Eli being with other men did intrigue Thrawn, as Eli well knew. Chasing (and being chased by) pirates, rebels, and smugglers in life-or-death situations was pretty stellar foreplay.

But even better was this game they sometimes played.

And after seven years, they played it very, _very_ well.

Eli, he knew, enjoyed seeing Thrawn’s usual stoicism shatter: craved to see the jealousy and anger meld with need, see the desire alight his red eyes before disintegrating into abject pleasure and leaving only pure love for Eli on his contented face.

Whereas Thrawn found himself craving the thrill of hearing Eli describe his desire for other men and the desire they held for him; some were contrived stories, but many were not. He took special pride and pleasure in completely pulling Eli apart afterward, driving him to the peaks of agony and ecstasy until he’d forgotten those other men’s names _along_ with his own, just as he was still screaming: _Thrawn._

But the thought of his lover with _two_ men at the same time, let alone the two death troopers he himself had ordered to protect the man, that was… that was something on a whole other level. His cock twitched in interest at the image of Eli kissing one death trooper before being ripped away by the other in his desperation to taste him, too; of losing himself in the bounty of two bodies, never sure whom he was pleasuring at any one moment and never caring; of being filled by _two_ men at once, their cocks sliding against one another as they stretched Eli to his limit.

Even as the blood that had been supplying Thrawn’s brain partially diverted to fill his rapidly-engorging cock, he found himself wondering just how far the death trooper’s medical enhancements went, and just how they’d use them to take his lover to the ecstatic limits of sensation.

That was the image in his mind as he suddenly released Eli from his grip, the pressure of his hips the only thing holding the human upright as he tore away at the black CDF uniform on his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: If you listen to the abridged audiobook of _Outbound Flight_ , Thrass is totally fine.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Passages from _Thrawn: Treason_ that you can also blame for this fic:**  
>  _Eli waxing poetic on the death troopers_  
>  “It wasn’t that Pik and Waffle were ugly or disfigured in any way. On the contrary. There was a symmetry and chiseled dignity about their faces that Eli had rarely seen in other human beings. Add to that their bigger-than-average size, their lean but well-defined musculature, and an unusual sheen to their neatly trimmed hair and they would be ideal candidates for Imperial recruitment displays.  
> But only if those displays didn’t show their eyes.  
> Eli shivered as he remembered his first clear look at those eyes. Cold and piercing, seeing everything, evaluating everything, dismissing everything. They held a touch of passion, a touch of pride, and far more than a touch of muted craziness.  
> Back when he’d been serving aboard the Chimaera, he’d heard whispered rumors that death troopers had been medically augmented beyond even stormtrooper training, becoming in the process something that was more, and less, than human.  
> Having now seen these two, Eli would never again doubt those rumors.”
> 
>  _When Eli is asked to prove he knew Nightswan:_  
>  '“Describe him,” Sisay said, her voice stiff and wary. “Describe everything.”  
> “Dark hair,” Eli said. “Dark eyes. The textured skin of a man who’s spent a lot of time in the sunlight. Miners’ hands, scarred and callused. Slim body, but a full face. Never killed anyone unless he absolutely had to.”  
> He ran down the complete description, everything he remembered about the man who’d called himself Nightswan: how he looked, the sound of his voice, the way he did business, details about some of the man’s operations that Thrawn had thwarted over the years. The others listened in silence, their expressions not giving anything away.  
> Finally, he ran out. “Satisfied?” he asked.  
> “You met him, I’ll give you that,” Sisay said. Her lip twitched. “Probably worked with him some, too,” she conceded reluctantly.'  
> (SERIOUSLY WHO DESCRIBES PEOPLE LIKE THAT? ELI WHEN HE’S THOUGHT ABOUT BONING THEM/HAS BONED THEM THAT’S WHO.)


End file.
